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Old 02-17-2008, 11:27 AM   #1
Bee Hoon
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[NSW: NWN2 Fic] Little Dreamer

A/N: Soooo, I just finished the OC for NWN2. That Obsidian always leaves so many parts out while offering just enough tempting tidbits that it spawns ridiculous numbers of plot bunnies. Why?! Why must they take over my life?? Why must they have such terrible endings that I *have* to do something because I'm so dissatisfied?:P I just dashed this off in one sitting, so any errors are probably unintentional. Except anyhoo. Heh.

Click here to listen to her personal name, Yun. You can search for Tian (the one I am referring to is sky) there as well, and yes, her personal name comes after her surname:P

Enjoy! Comments would be greatly appreciated

* * *

“Who are you?” The child’s voice was plaintive, and she hugged the puppy close as the man turned to look at her. He was tall, and he looked a bit scary, with the beard-thing and the scars. His face was hard, but there was something about him that reminded her of her father.

“You look sad, just like father. He won’t be happy to find a stranger at home.” The man came closer, and she flinched when he crouched down in front of her.

“Don’t be scared. I’m a friend.”

She pursed her lips skeptically, and he sighed. She was so young, and already so jaded. “Yeah. If you say so. Are you a dream?”

“I don’t know. Why do you ask?” His coppery eyes met her dark eyes and held them.

“’Cuz I dream a lot, and things make sense sometimes. And sometimes they don’t. You don’t make sense. Normal grown-ups don’t just pop out of nowhere. That’s cheating.”

He chuckled, and his face softened. “It’s my job. I’m a ranger, you see, and we have to real quiet so that we don’t scare the animals.”

“But Mutton Chop’s not scared of me.” She stroked the puppy, who yawned widely and snuggled deeper into her arms. “I didn’t name him, Bevil did. Bevil gave him to me but I don’t think father will let me keep him.”

Her face was rounder but he could see the same dimple in her cheek. She smiled at the puppy, and he felt tears pricking his eyelids as he watched. She hadn’t changed, had she? This was what he saw on the rare moments that she let her guard down.

She continued earnestly, “Anyhoo, I would have noticed you there if you were just being quiet.” She narrowed her eyes suspiciously, “Unless you’re magical like Mister Tarmas. But that counts as cheating too!”

“Does having a knack with animals count as being magical?”

“Nah.” She shook her head, and her black hair was mussed when the vigorous motion ended. In another time and another place, she had told him that it was too damned fine for its own good.

“Then I promise that I’m not the least bit magical.”

“Pinky promise?” She extended her little finger, and he curled his own around her tiny one. She smiled again, toothily. She still had her baby teeth. Perhaps six years old? He couldn’t tell.

“Hey mister, what’s your name?”

“I promised someone that I wouldn’t tell you.” White lies were the easiest.

“But why?”

“Because it would…change the future.”

“I dream of the future all the time, anyhoo. So it wouldn’t make a difference! I would tell you my name!”

“I already know your name, dear.”

“You don’t! You’re lying!” She was flying into the kind of passions which only children could.

“Your name is Tian Yun, but everyone just calls you Yun. Your father’s name is Daeghun Farlong.”

“You are a dream then. Dreams cheat all the time. It ain’t fair.”

“Life isn’t fair.” He took her hands in his own rough ones, the puppy waddling away as she let go. “Tell me about your dreams.”

“The cheating ones?”

“Yes.” He smiled at her, but she continued pouting, rosebud lips pressed together.

“Well, I see a lot of people running around with me. Doing stuff. And we’re always running away from this thing. I dunno what it looks like though. Big, I guess. Ugly too. I’m always running. Always trying to do stuff before it catches me. I don’t like these dreams. There’s more, but I can’t remember after I wake up.”

She coughed weakly then, and he remembered the shard, and how close it had come to her heart. It must have settled in her left lung. She always coughed, sometimes bringing up scanty, blood-stained phlegm.

“Are you wearing make-up?” She never failed to blindside him, then or now.

“No! Where on Faerun did that question come from?”

“Well, your eyelashes don’t match your hair. Kinda like Vera during the last Harvest Festival. Amie said that she put stuff on her eyelashes ‘cuz she likes Lorne, but I dunno why anyone would do that.”

“I just spend too much time outdoors, you know.” He reached up and smoothed down her hair. “If you spent that much time outdoors, your hair would get lighter too. Not as light as mine, but lighter anyway.”

“Can you teach me how to make sad people happy?”

Her brain was completely incapable of focusing on one thing at a time, he noted wryly. Poor little dreamer, she would perplex people for years before she realized that very few people could keep up with her. Grobnar would have.

“I can’t. That’s something that you have to figure out all by yourself.”

“But you’re a cheating dream!” This was said accusingly, with the implication that he was all-powerful.

“I can tell you that you’ll be beautiful when you grow up. In fact, you’re already beautiful.”

A small frown appeared, and yet he found her so oddly endearing even when she was piqued. “You’re just saying that. Anyhoo, I’ll try to make you happy too, kay? I gotta practice.”

“So as you shiver in the cold and the dark,
Look into the fire and see in its spark--
My eye
Watching over you.

As you walk in the wind's whistling claws,
Listen past the howling of the wolf's jaws.
My song
Comes to you.

And when you're lost in the trackless snow,
Look up high where the eagles go.
My star
Shines for you.

In deep, dark mine or on crumbling peak,
Hear the words of love I speak.
My thoughts
Are with you.

You are not forsaken.
You are not forgotten.
The North cannot swallow you.
The snows cannot bury you.
I will come for you.
Faerun will grow warmer,
And the gods will smile
But oh, my love, guard yourself well--
All this may not happen for a long, long while.”

Her sweet child’s voice was high and pure, and he had to look away to hide the tears. She would sing this poem only once more, and she would be weeping, her voice breaking in parts.

“I’m sorry! I didn’t mean to make you cry!” Her bewildered child’s face moved into his field of vision and he wiped his eyes quickly.

“No, no. It just reminded me of something. It was beautiful. I was so happy that I couldn’t help crying. But sad at the same time, you know?”

Judging from her expression, she obviously didn’t. “How can you be happy and sad at the same time?”

“Because I did something bad, and I’m very sorry for it.”

“Then you should say so.”

“I did. But it’s not enough. I’m not a good man. I’m not good enough.”

“I think that you’re very nice for a grown-up. Just say sorry and I’m sure everything will be okay.” She put her small, soft hand in his and squeezed. She meant every word.

It was all he could do to keep the sobs from breaking out of that place where he had locked his heart. He stood up, staring into blank space, listening to something. “It’s time already? Just a while more. Please. A few more minutes, that’s all I ask.”

“Who are you talking to?”

“Another dream. Listen to me—I have to leave now, but someone who loves you very much asked me to give you this.” He pressed his lips against her tender cheek, and she squealed. “Yeah, I know. It’s the stubble.”

“What’s stubble?” Not such a strange question, when he recalled that elves had a glaring lack of facial hair.

However, he ignored the question and drew her into his arms for a moment, then whispered, “I’m sorry. And thank you.”

He released her slowly, and walked back into the corner where he had first appeared. She cried out, “Will I see you again?”

He smiled slightly. “I hope so. Goodbye, Yun.” Then he vanished, slowly fading away.

* * *

The Sunken Flagon, approximately 12 years later.

The tavern was so crowded that Bishop could not even lift his tankard without elbowing someone in the gut. While this did not bother him in the least, the constant hubbub was grating on his nerves. Really, did everyone have to scream and sing at the top of their drunken voices?

Someone stumbled into him from behind, and he whirled around, ready to break some bones just to vent his annoyance, but he pulled up short when he saw that it was a slip of a girl, dark hair and eyes, quite pretty in a foreign sort of way. She looked at him with a strange expression on her face.

“Do I know you from somewhere?” her voice was surprisingly clear despite the ceaseless noise.

“Has it been that long since you’ve seen a real man? If I wanted a wench, I’d go to the brothel.” He said it with a wolfish curl of his lip.

She rolled her eyes and muttered something which was probably along the lines of “male chauvinist pig”.

“Stick around, you might start looking good after a few more drinks,” he called after her as she pushed her way back into the crowd. Without looking back, she made a rude gesture, and vanished. Well, that’s the last I will see of her at any rate, he thought. Not my type, but she had a damned fine butt.

“More ale!”

The sun goes down and the sky reddens, pain grows sharp.
light dwindles. Then is evening
when jasmine flowers open, the deluded say.
But evening is the great brightening dawn
when crested cocks crow all through the tall city
and evening is the whole day
for those without their lovers

-Kuruntokai 234, translated by A.K. Ramanujan

[Fic] Shreds of a Dying Belief

Last edited by Bee Hoon; 05-08-2008 at 07:23 AM.
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